Lips of ice
by PrincessPurity
Summary: it's how he is, plain as that. He loves no one, & no one loves him. He wouldn't know love if it kissed him on the mouth." The little girl looked up at Poppy. "That's so sad... What if no one ever loves him, and he's all mean & awful, all by his self?"
1. Chapter 1

_Dear readers, this is my first story on this site, please be gentle._

_This story involves a little girl, i__f small children being tangled in the war upsets you, please do not read it._

**_L__ips of ice_**

Part 1 **Lights of green ~ hugs past**

Poppy Pomfrey sat on a soft fluffy bed, surrounded by stuffed animals, with soft blue veils swooping over her, like wisps of moonlight.

She had never been more miserable in her life.

in her arms a six-year-old girl with strawberry-blonde braids, was sobbing her heart out.

Elizabeth Rose McAdams, Poppy's cousin's, wife's, sister's, daughter, was now an orphan.

While Elizabeth was in Hogsmeade with her aunt, Mr and Mrs McAdams had been in the wrong place, at the wrong time, with the wrong blood in their veins.

When Ellie's aunt brought her sleepy niece home, she had been watching her sweet, smiling face, as she walked up the path to the house. it was only Ellie's high-pitched cry, that alerted her to the green monstrosity weaving through the air above her sister's house.

She had tried to stop Ellie from going inside. She had tried to reach the broken door first. She had failed. Ellie had found her parents.

Poppy could only imagine What Elizabeth's scream had sounded like, though she tried desperately not to.

That had been four weeks ago. Ellie would not eat. She would swallow what her care-takers (through magic, and magic alone) got into her mouth, but eat of her own accord she would not.

She would drink like a fish, and cry on occasion, but for the most part Ellie had been utterly silent.

Tonight, late in March, she had been able to talk about what had happened. And she had cried. Poppy was not sure what to do but tut over her depressed state, and after the first few hours, cry with her.

Every few minutes Elizabeth's tears would subside, and she would stare silently at the wall, or doze. Within a half hour she would start again, sometimes waking herself by doing so.

So Ellie cried, and Poppy rocked her gently back and forth, both of them utterly miserable.

After a time, the little girl quieted, and Madam Pomfrey stilled.

There was a catch in the child's throat, quiet as a sigh, and Poppy sniffed.

"i want Momma..."

Poppy's breath shook slightly. "Yes... Yes you do deary... 'M awfully sorry." She tried not to let her voice break.

"i hope he dies!" Her face stretched into an absurd expression as she tried not to cry.

There was a pause, then, "i don't understand."

The soft voice hiccoughed, and the red-rimmed, stormy eyes blinked back tears they weren't ready to hold just yet. "Why would the Bad Man kill Momma?"

Poppy though her heart would break for certain.

"Did i do something wrong? Did she do something? D-d-did P-Poppa? i don't understa- and...." Her words were broken into by exhausted little sobs.

"No." Poppy called on her no nonsense voice, though there were tears streaming down her face. "You did less than nothing wrong. You and your P-parents-" she caught herself starting to sob on the word, and she had already cried enough to last a lifetime, "your parents were... and are, very, very good people. You are a good little girl, and you have done everything you can. This is none of it your fault."

"Who's fault is it?" She sniffed softly, but sounded curious, not hurt, or scared.

"_His_," Madam Pomfrey said, and it was the closest to snarling she'd ever come. "The Dark Lord wll not stop till his vile power has touched all the world, and he ruins everything he touches." She suddenly realized who she was speaking to, and gasped afraid she had upset the little girl again.

Surprisingly the little girl seemed more bewildered than sad.

"That's so sad. Why doesn't he just say he's sorry, and be nice again?"

"He..." Madam Pomfrey looked down slightly, and tried to control the hatred in her voice. "He was never nice, love. He hates people. He kills people, it's how he is, plain as that. He loves no one, and no one loves him. He wouldn't know love if it kissed him on the mouth.

"Really?" Her face looked so stricken, Poppy, started, and mentally gave herself a good fussing-at.

She opened her mouth to answer the child, but Ellie looked down and said softly, "I'm really, really sorry.... What if no one ever loves him, and he hates people and is bad and awful all by his self? What if no one ever says 'i love you'..." Her small, red face crumpled and she started crying all over again, not for herself, but for the man who killed her parents.

"Deary, deary... i thought you wanted the.. the Bad Man to die."

"Yes," the little girl sobbed at the top of her voice, "but not all by his self!"

She broke down into sobs again, leaving poor, confused Pomfrey to sit, head spinning and pat the little girl's hair.

"I'm sorry!" Ellie's sobs rang out into the night. "I'm Sorry, I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"


	2. Chapter 2

Part 2 Faces of iron ~ Boxes of Blue

Lucius Malfoy smiled at the sound of chaos and screams. Flames rose into the frosty, black sky, and smoke filled the air in dark, dizzy strands.

Lucius Loved it. Energy filled him, coursing through his veins like lightening. The sound of stumbling feet alerted him, and he spun, wand outstretched. The pale faced young lady never had a chance. With a sharp 'Stupefy!', the woman rolled over unconscious. He raised his wand to continue, but Bellatrix voice carried across the flame covered streets.

"Lucius!!" Her eyes were nearly as wide as her maniacal grin. "Muggles!"  
Her hand pointed away from the town and towards the frost covered fields. Not too far from the port-key by which they had entered the fields, lay a small farmhouse, old and forgotten.

Between the Death Eaters and the farm house, the tall frost-bitten stalks of grain moved, disturbed by some unseen prey.

Bellatrix' high pitched laugh was nigh on unbearable, but Lucius laughed with her.  
He adjusted the cold, metal mask across his face, his eyes sparkling dangerously.

The night seemed suddenly deeper, darker, the fire ravenous, and angry. The Hunt was on.

********  
Elizabeth McAdams heard the cries before she saw the lights. Ugly, orange fire light, mixed with flashes of green. Green like she recalled it from the day she saw it hovering above her house, ten months ago. The color of the dead.

She stared out the window, wide eyed, as flames leapt around the town nearby, and green and white and red flashes silhouetted the world between the town and the farmhouse. Colors danced around the houses, to the sound of far off screaming, like fireworks at some kind of sick carnival.

Ellie left the window with tears streaming down her face, and huddled, shaking, in the dark, musty corner.

Lights flashed, dimly through the window, illuminating the cold, dusty room. Ellie's pale, warm breaths puffed into the air, swirling in white ribbons through the dark in front of her.

'God, please don't let them find aunt Kelly. Help her to get out of the town, and not be dead. Please don't let her get burned up, or killed or hurt. Take care of her if i die.'

it occurred to her, that she might never find out if her prayers were answered or not.

'i want Momma. i want Momma. I'm seven years old, and I'm gonna die.'

She was scared, but not surprised. From the day her parents died, Elizabeth had assumed that she would die the same way. The Bad Man ruined everything he touched. He wouldn't stop till he'd touched everything.

Her head snapped up. She could hear the cries getting closer. He was coming. He was going to burn down the farm house.

Ellie didn't want to be scared, but she was. She was trembling all over, and she was cold - deathly cold...

But she had known it was coming. She would meet the Bad Man. She would see if he would recognize love, after all. She had known for a long time now.

But she was not going to burn to death in the farm house.

The little girl rose, and felt her way down the stairs in the dim, flickering glow coming from the windows. There were howls and cries coming from not too far away, and getting steadily closer. Trembling she clung to the banisters - eye level on the seven year old - and crept quietly to the ground.

Once downstairs, she ran to her aunt's room, and stood on tip-toe to reach the jewelry box she found there. Though the box belonged to her aunt, it held only things belonging Elizabeth or her mother. Aunt Kelly rarely even looked in it, so she had not yet found the note that her niece had tucked carefully beneath her blue, birthday locket.

Taking down the box, she checked to make sure her note was safe, and tucking the small, blue box under one arm, she strode to the bed.

Dropping to her knees, she carefully slid the box under aunt Kelly's bed, and dusted her hands off on her white nightgown, before rising and leaving the room.

'God, please take care of my jewelry box. Take care of it til aunt Kelly can find it, and don't let it get burned down.'

She stepped out into the cold, dark room beyond, and rubbed her bare arms. She wished she had remembered to get her pink, Sunday-best jumper, but there probably wasn't time now.

She stepped quietly, bare-foot out into the night, carefully closing the door behind her.

She hadn't left soon enough. She turned to find herself staring at a cluster of tall, menacing figures - One of them didn't even look remotely human. All were tall. All were clothed in dark robes. All of them stared down at her from cold, metal, faces.  
Faces of iron or steel, but not flesh.... they couldn't be human... they couldn't have faces of steel unless their own faces had been cut off somehow...

Ellie gasped, and fell back against the door. She looked from one iron face, to the other. Then her brow furrowed. Those weren't their faces. They were just masks - toys, nothing more. So where was He?

Where was the Bad Man?

*******  
Lucius stared at the little girl before him. She could hardly be more than six, and well over three feet tall. Her large eyes, wide with shock, were blue, and her waist-length hair was light - strawberry-blonde, perhaps? - though hard to discern in this light.

She wore nothing but a white nightgown, with what appeared to be tiny blue or lavender rose buds all over it. Her bare, pink arms were covered in goosebumps, her feet were bare, and slightly blue, and she looked very cold.

However all else aside, what caught his attention when he glanced back up, was her face.

She was giving Lucius a look of severe scrutiny, and her small, round arms were crossed over her chest. Her eyebrows were scrunched together, and she had tugged her mouth into a little frown.

Lucius waved away his mask with one flick of his wand, and smirked down at the child.

"Good afternoon." His voice sounded cold, even to him, and he saw the goosebumps raise higher on her arms. Her face did not flicker.

"Are you the Bad Man?" The child tilted her head to one side.

The corners of Lucius mouth twisted into an amused smirk. "i am a very bad man." He smiled, darkly.  
She did not look away. Lucius was beginning to feel strangely uncomfortable.

"No. You're just not a nice man, and you're kind of a mean man, and A bad man, but your not the Bad Man. The one who killed everyone, who no one talks about."

Lucius felt his ego deflate, slightly, and tried to rally his mental stamina. "What a.. charming.... little witch. Tell me, what is your name?"

"Elizabeth."

"No," snarled Lucius, softly, the amusement wearing thin, "your last name, the one that is written in your blood." His cold clipped tones had given way to an icy drawl, and his eyes bored into her.

Ellie shook her head, mutely.

"Oh, dear, dear, are you shy?" He cocked his head to one side, extending his wand, and smiling slightly. "you," he shook his head slightly, momentarily at a loss for words, "didn't seem the type."

"Do let me," whispered Bellatrix' dark voice, behind him. "i haven't gotten to take care of a sweet, sweet little girl in soo loong...." Her voice took on a slightly sing-song, maternal quality.

Elizabeth didn't flinch, or look childish, and she certainly didn't smile. Elizabeth meant business.

"i need to meet the Bad Man, please."

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One wonderful person has commented, and for that i am very grateful. Thank you for your patience as i figure out how to post multiple chapters.... -_-'


	3. Chapter 3

_i apologize, my 'i' key is dead, so if you notice the fact that all of my 'i's are lowercase , it's because i paste them in, and don't have the patience to copy an uppercase 'i', use it once, then re-copy a small one again. _

Part 3 Voices of Anger ~ Cloaks of Black

The Deatheaters turned.

Elizabeth's mouth was set, her eyes trained on Lucius' face. Her hands hung by her sides, and her softly shaking body was held proud and erect.

Bellatrix was the first to laugh. She was also the first to stop.

"You can't be serious." She stared down at Ellie, suddenly sober, her eyes wide with disbelief. "A mud-blooded wretch like you?!" Her voice rose to a shriek, and her hand flew towards the girl, wand extended.

How, or why Lucius stopped her from killing the child he did not know. Perhaps - and he had feared this for some time - his wife's pregnancy was weakening him, taking away his willingness to be strong. Were this the case he would have to take the child firmly in hand the moment it was born. Or, perhaps, his mounting dislike for Bellatrix' selfish, thoughtless actions had reached a climax. A million reasons came to mind, but whatever the actual reason, he found himself creating his excuse for his fellow death eaters before he had finished sorting through the possibilities.

"If the child wishes to speak to The Dark Lord..." he gave the offending creature an amused smirk, "then perhaps we should let it."

The Mask next to him let out a low hiss.

"What?!" Bellatrix was positively spitting. "Allow this little minx, this bitch, this mudblood," she let the foul phrase roll off her tongue like a curse, "this THiNG you would allow to view He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?"

Through the lidless eyes of her mask, her glare pierced through him almost tangibly.

"Unless," Lucius answered, curtly, forcing his voice under strictest control, "you would like to keep the amusement you seem to crave so desperately, all to your self."

For a moment she looked struck, then her posture resumed composure. "Low, Malfoy. Quite low, even for one of your-"

"And now you resort to name-calling? Bellatrix?" He laughed incredulously, and a few soft chuckles joined his.  
"You who are favored by The Dark Lord," he sounded doubtful, as though he had misunderstood, "for a small child..." He shook his head. "Would you deny him that?"  
Towards the end his voice had grown dangerous, his eyes cold.

"I wasn't going to kill it," snapped Bellatrix, "...just take her dancing." Her Malicious eyes lit up behind the mask.

"Won't it escape... While we're talking?"

Malfoy looked at the rather thick-headed man to his left, in disgust. "Yes, thank you Goyle." He heard the man to his right, Severus, inhale with a sharp hiss.

Turning his attention back to the child, and seeing no opposition, he smiled, cruelly. "Well then, little one: it appears your wish has been granted. You will see His Dark Majesty."

The child turned her face up to him. His blood ran cold.  
WHY?

*********************************************

Ellie looked up at the man, her eyes wide, her mouth open, slightly. The masked man she had smiled at, the one to the blonde man's left, was standing so still that she could hardly believe he was alive. She gave him another, tiny smile, just for good measure.

The Blonde man looked back at her. "Well then, little one..." His blue eyes were deep, and pale. They had drowned things - sights, that Ellie could never have imagined. The eyes were evil. "It appears your wish has been granted."

Ellie looked up at him, fearfully, hopefully. She held her breath.

"You will see His Dark Majesty."

His tone sounded cruel and frozen, but it was wasted on Ellie. She had done it. She would meet He Who Must Not Be Loved. She could look at his face and see why he was so scary. Maybe...

Elizabeth tilted her face up to the ice eyed man... and smiled, truly happy for the first time that evening. Somehow, she thought the man looked surprised. Her smile merely grew bigger, her heart lighter. The masked people stared at her.

"Let's go now, okay?"

The Woman was the first to regain her composure. Her laugh was high, and cruel. The eyes behind the metal were vicious and wild.

Ellie smiled, coldly. The woman laughed all the louder, but the silver haired man's face quivered, and Ellie was sure he smiled for an instant.

"Very well," the man said, with a patronizing smile. "Would you follow us?" His voice was mocking, and sacharine. "Ladies first."

She had taken a step forward before she remembered. "Oh."

They turned to look at her again, incredulous, could she have known it, behind their masks.

"Is there a.." the greasy haired man to her left drawled, "problem... princess?" Some of the others growled - more laughed. Two drew their wands.

Ellie had known they were evil, and murderous... but these were very impractical people, and they weren't nice enough to make up for it.

"Igor, Mulciber..." It was the woman who spoke this time. "Be polite. Now, now, little angel..." Her voice sounded almost nice. Many grown ups would have thought it was... But only the really stupid ones. "What is it that's got you all upsetted? Hmm?" She stroked Ellie's cheek gently with her nails. "Don't you want to meet The Dark Lord?"

Ellie blinked. "I'm not upsetted at all," she explained, earnestly, turning to the tall man. She rather liked him. "I just want to die in my pink jumper."

The man blanched, and she gave him a radiant smile. "Will you fetch it for me?"

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_i think Lucius was caught off gaurd... _

_Please comment. i have the next chapter ready, but i'm not properly satisfied with it, so i'll most likely post it then edit it later. thank you for reading, and God bless. ^_^_


	4. Chapter 4

_Author's note. Thank you to all of you guys who commented. It means a great deal to me._

_I hope this chapter doesn't depress you too badly (it is, after all, a tragedy__). Thank you for reading, and I hope to update sooner next time. _

Part 4 **Eyes of hunger ~ Lips of ice**

Elizabeth landed on her face. The stone beneath her was cold, and hard, and her nose hurt, awfully. She knew that the Bad People hurt people - but he hadn't known they hurt their noses. It was a more immediate kind of pain, and it stung. Torture was one thing. a skinned nose was another.

She looked around at the darkness surrounding her.

The Bad People had lead her through the fields to the portkey they had used to enter the town. She had decided very quickly that she really didn't like portkeys, and that she was glad she was wearing her jumper.

All the others had managed to land gracefully, but she had spun wide, and struck the stones with a little yelp.

She was in a room, but it was too dark to see where. The shadows climbed the walls eerily, and the familiar ache of wanting momma returned.

"Hello?"

There was silence for a moment, then, "Hello."

The voice was low and sick. Something about it was cold - so cold it dripped steam, even in this icy room. It was soft, but it carried, and Ellie had no idea which direction it came from.

"Hello," Ellie repeated. Her eyes stung, and her nose tickled, but she was afraid to cry. She could hear the quiet snickering of the Bad People.

Then the voice returned. "Are you frightened?"

Ellie sniffed, and her head nodded. She hadn't wanted it to, but it did.

The room chilled with laughter. Elizabeth felt icy sparks in her spine, and sweat dripped down her frozen face. The cold seemed to be solidifying ahead and to her right.

"Where are your parents little child?" came the voice, and she could swear she had heard the creature next to her licking it's lips.

"You killed them." Now she was the one to induce silence.

The blackness threw itself together and spat out a man - a man in black robes, with white skin. His hair was dark, his smirk was cold, and his eyes were hungry.

"Have you come to get revenge?" His voice was high and mocking. "Do you want to hurt me?" His smile was getting closer. "Tell me, little girl - do you want to kill me?"

Ellie looked up at him for a moment. Her head shook it's self.

His eyebrows arched in surprise. "No?"

She shook her small, strawberry-blonde head again.

"Do you admire me?"

"NO." She hadn't meant for her tone to come out so cold. She hadn't meant to sound angry. The Bad People were laughing and looking incredulous. "No," she repeated softly. "You" her voice was shaking, "you killed my Momma... And Poppa... And everybody..." She couldn't stop steaming tears from tickling down her face.

"Now, now, now, now.." A hand seized her chin and forced her face upwards.

"Flattery will not save you, and shame on you for thinking it." He let her go and strode a few steps away.

"Do you realize, that you are a very lucky young lady?" His voice had begun to hiss slightly.

Ellie didn't feel lucky. Ellie felt scared. She knew in her heart she had nothing to fear from death, but she was scared, and lonely, and sad, and tired. Tired of the laughing Bad People, tired of the Bad-Man-Who-No-One-Loved smiling at her. Tired of not having Momma around.

"Do you know why you are lucky?" The Man was leaning over her again, peering down into her face, lifting her chin up to him, coaxing her to look at him.

"Hmm? Do you?" His steely fingers closed over her lower jaw.

She shook her head as best she could, not meeting his gaze.

The Bad Man's hand stroked the side of her face that was slightly further from him, bringing her face towards his even further. Ellie bit her lower lip.

"You are lucky," his frigid breath hit her small face as he spoke, "because I am content. I am content," he drew back slightly and gestured generously as he spoke, "and have other things to amuse me."

"All," he hissed into the silence, "is at peace... And I am a busssy, busssy man..."

Elizabeth looked up into his eyes, and cocked her head to one side. He really sounded like a snake would... Or maybe a very mean kitten...

"Little girl," he leaned forward, drawing his wand. "You are lucky, because I am going to kill you."

Finally Elizabeth smiled. She had been expecting this - this was what she had been assuming would happen from the start, so she had gotten lost when he tried to patronize her, pacify her, make her his toy. This she understood, and she was back on track. She nodded her head vehemently.

There were slight airy chuckles, and cackles among the Bad People, replacing the initial disappointment at losing their new play thing so quickly, and with so little fun. The Dark Lord waved his arm, and there was silence.

As he raised his wand, Ellie realized this was going to be her only chance to do what she came for.

She held up one tiny finger before the Bad Man could speak.

"Wait, please." She said it the way she would have said 'tea, please', or 'maybe later, please'. She didn't say 'please' because she was scared, she added it to the end to make it sound more polite.

The Bad Man was looking at her, with a whimsical smile, and dangerously bright eyes.

Without breaking eye contact, and careful not to make any sudden movements, Ellie took one step forward... Then another...

The room was still except for the faces following her, and her own soft footsteps.

Another step brought her up to the side of the Dark Lord. She raised her hand, and tugged gently on his robes, like a bellpull.

Behind her one of the Bad People, the woman with dark, wild hair and light, wilder eyes, shrieked in rage and moved as if to throw herself at the little girl - but one dismissive movement of the Bad Man's arm stilled her. She glared at Ellie, fire burning in her eyes, dying to torture her, ready to kill at a moments notice.

The-Bad-Man-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named turned his attention back to the little girl, as she tugged his robes once again.

He crouched down, his head turning at eery angles as he watched Ellie smile.

She had not expected to be scared. She had thought maybe it would be easy. But this was not being easy, and she missed her Poppa, badly, badly, badly.

Ellie's chin crinkled without her consent, and hot drool, and hot tears started down her face again. She couldn't help crying.

Ellie sniffed, and tried to smother a sob, forcing it down with an imaginary pillow. She didn't want him to feel bad, or think he was making her cry. She rubbed her eyes and face with the corner of her pink jumper - after all you didn't get in trouble for spoiling your favorite jumper when you weren't on earth anymore - and looked back up at his face. Then she leaned gently forward to do what she came here to do.

***************

_I hope you like it. Please read and review. (I know, I know - that's what they all say.)_


	5. Chapter 5

_This was the hardest seen for me to write. I think it came out a bit sappy, but I'm afraid I just can't understand how Death eaters think, so they keep coming out too nice. Even He-who-must-not-be-named... _

Part 5** Tears of hunger ~ Smiles of ice**

Voldemort felt the curious little girl's hands on his robes, and raised an eyebrow, slightly. His surprise gave way to a hiss of irritation, as Belltrix started to dive for the child. He snarled slightly, and silenced her with a wave of his arm.

Then he turned his attention back to the small figure, that stood, still tugging on his robes.

Many a scream had he enjoyed from those who had made this same mistake, but the little child knew no better, and it amused him.

He crouched down, looking into her eyes, peering into her mind, staring at her in fascination. She suddenly began to cry, softly, very softly.

He considered lapping up her tears, savoring them as a treat, but he might be tempted to gnaw on her flesh, once tasting her face, and he had told her he would merely kill her, without foreplay. And He Was Never Wrong.

Before he could finish his thoughts she had stifled the sounds of her tears, and started wiping her face on her little, pink jumper -

For one sickening moment, he recalled doing the same. Swallowing cries, wiping his face coldly, refusing tears, so he could grow to what he was now. This magnificent creature he had become.

In his shock, he missed the crucial moment when she looked to his mouth before leaning forward. He was utterly unprepared.

And there it was, a soft, fluttering kiss, like the warm wings of an angel, brushing his lips shyly. A gentle, naive, lovely little kiss, that smelled like rose water and chocolates, settling on his cold, cruel mouth.

Something inside him lurched. The utter ridiculousness of this moment caught him off guard. This sick, fool of a child, who would kiss the man who murdered her parents... Did she not hate him, loathe him? Did she want to kiss him? Did she - again the absurdity of the thought made his chest cold - love him? She did not admire him, she had said, but what could move her to love - the desire to save her own life? Why hadn't she run?

He felt sick, and almost unpleasantly warm. This was wrong. It was wrong because it was not wrong enough.

He had stolen kisses, taken them by force, wrenched them from screaming mouths, but when had he ever been... given one?

The warmth of it spread through his clammy body, and it... frightened him. A pair of round, little hands were still entangled in the front of his robe, and he wanted to free himself from them - escape the innocent little kiss. But he didn't.

He wanted to stay.

The tiny little lips pushed against his mouth - a baby's kiss, soft and dry - and then lifted away.

The little girl leaned back, smiling, and nodded to him, ready to die.

She had not been trying to save her life. She had merely kissed him goodbye.

And in that moment of horror, he Hated her. Hated this thing, this naive little creature that gave kisses and memories. He wanted her dead. And he was Never Wrong.

His wand hand flew up, and his voice screamed unforgivable words into the night.

Under the unbearable emerald light, the little white body flew backwards, to land, soul-less on the ground six feet away.

Unforgivable. He smiled. Yes! There was no forgiveness for someone like him. For one who wanted no forgiveness.

He drew closer, and peered at her frozen, smiling face. His mouth curved in cruel, hysterical amusement, and his high, hoarse laugh wrenched through the air.

He leaned forward and slapped the impudent little smile, his nails leaving marks on her pale face, slightly skinning her rosy cheek. Rising he kicked her frail, little body, again, and again. Once again his high pitched voice rose to a crow, like a crack in the sky - jagged and wrong, hoarse and sick.

His hand lifted to his mouth, to caress his cold smile-

Horrified he drew his hand back, and stared at it in shock.

His face was wet. His mouth was warm.

*********

Ellie drew back, content. She had kissed the lips of ice, and they weren't so deathly scary after all. Like kissing a snowman.

She looked up into the pale eyes, and smiled. Time to go. It wasn't so scary after all.

He looked angry, which was sad. Ellie had hoped kisses would make people happy. Oh well. Goodnight, world, and good luck.

The green scared her, but only a little. It would be okay now.

The last thing she thought was happy. She warmed a frozen mouth, and his scary, stony eyes had cried.

She was dead before she hit the ground. She never felt him kicking her, or them toss her to the portkey. She never saw the frozen fields re-appear around her, or the sky growing light.

And far above, a crow circled, peering down at the tiny figure, lying silent on the ground, with a hand print on her face, clouded blue eyes, and her white nightgown and pink jumper moving, slightly, in the cold morning breeze.

*********

in the darkness, Ellie heard a voice.

"Stay or go?"

"What do you mean?"

The voice came again. "Stay or go? Stay here, untouchable, incorporeal, bound to this world, but safe - or go beyond and see for yourself what lies ahead?"

Without missing a beat, Ellie answered. "Take me to heaven, please."

"You cannot know," the voice said softly, "that heaven is what awaits you."

'Poor, silly voice,' thought Ellie. 'But then, even God has to have some silly people working for him.' She would Just have to phrase it so the voice would understand. in the darkness Ellie smiled.

"Take me to Momma and Poppa, now, please."

The voice sounded like it was smiling this time.

"Very Well."

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_Sorry. _


	6. Chapter 6

_This is the final chapter. I hope you all enjoyed the story, and thank you for taking the time to read it._

_We don't have internet on both the computers right now, so I'm having to transcribe this. Whee. _

part 4 **Kisses ~ Memories**

_Seventeen Years Later_

Poppy Pomfrey's hands trembled as she held the small, pumpkin-printed stationary. Ellie's sweet, six-year-old handwriting was scrawled in giant words across the page.

'_Dear ant Kelly. How are you? I am fine.I might be in heavun. If so, Moma and Poppa say Hi. Please be happy. I love you, and will see you soon. Do not hurry. I can wait. Well, bye bye._

_I love you. - Ellie_

_ps. If I am dead you can have my blue loket. You can also have my pictures of Momma and Poppa. I want to keep my pink jumper._

_I love you.'_

Poppy's face was red and soaked with tears. Just for safety sake she turned the tiny letter over to check the back. Thank God, it was blank save for the small smiley face drawn on the lower right hand corner. She did not think she could have handled any more of Ellie's innocent, sweet, happy, little words. She was heart-broken enough as it was.

She looked over to the bed where the still body of Kelly McAdams lay. Her face was pale, and Poppy had closed her green eyes the moment she had known it was too late. Kelly's lips were quirked in a soft smile, and her light brown hair tumbled around her on the sterile, white sheets.

Poppy shook her head. How many more innocent victims would this war claim? She had seen all of this end sixteen years ago; she had hoped never to see it again.

As a close friend, and a distant relative, Poppy was included in Kelly's will. There were, the will stated, only three things of value in Kelly's posession. The farmhouse had long since been sold, and replaced with a small, dilapidated flat, which would go to her sister in law, if she wanted it. Her personal effects could be kept or sold, she cared not. What money she had was to go to her poorest relative, and anything else could go to anyone, so long as they didn't fight over it. If they did, the objects in question were to be burned immediately, and her lawyer, Mr Flinnwirk had been instructed to stick his tongue out at all involved. (Kelly had always been an interesting soul, and there were somethings death could not change.)

Only three things were there any more specifics about.

Poppy held one of them now.

The other two sat beside her, on a small table. Ellie's little blue locket, made of sparkling plastic, was layed on a cushion, like a prized Asian jewel. Next to it, a little, blue jewelry box sat, like an untouched shrine. And held in Poppy's trembling hands; a letter Ellie had left in that same jewelry box, eighteen years ago.

These things - these three things - these Kelly had considered worthy of attention.

Poppy shook her head. She looked at Kelly, her brows furrowed. "How is it," she asked aloud, "that you, dear, are always so content with whatever comes your way?" She smiled and shook her head. "And why on earth... are you smiling?"

She felt tears sliding down her sadly smiling face, as she drew the white sheets once more over Kelly McAdam's mischieveous face. It was true. Kelly and Ellie had always been content with whatever horrible thing fate had planned. No matter what the powers that be had in store for them, they faced it with a quiet smile, as if they knew something - something about how this story ended. Something the fates had no notion of. So they would smile, quietly, and dance subsurviently through whatever twists and turns fate chose, seemingly unaware of the dark consequences waiting for them.

Poppy set down the letter without a second glance, grabbed a tissue, and sat for a moment, basking in that happy, contented, certainty. God only knew where they were now; but Poppy was _sure_ that they were perfectly happy to be there. And God bless their gentle souls.

********

In the darkness, Kelly heard a voice.

"Stay, or go?"

"Give me a moment."

"You have an eternity to make your decision."

Kelly knew what she would choose. But she wanted a moment to think - to remember. The boy who had stopped the Dark Lord first would stop him this she was certain. Her neighbor would take her animals, and the rest of her things were settled in her will. She wouldn't be around to see the war being won, but she was content to know that the Boy Who Lived, would live on, that good would triumph. All in all, she didn't need to feel bad about abandoning the world. It would be all right.

She smiled, and sighed softly. "All right. I'm ready."

"Well then," said the voice. "Stay, or go."

"Take me to heaven, please. If that can be arranged," she added, quickly. "Hell is a rather distant second, you see."

"You cannot know," the voice said, weary, and impatiently," that those things are what await you. You cannot know."

'_Poor thing._' Kelly smiled. '_He may still be rattled from dealing with my little scamp, Ellie._'

"There is nothing that I can know, is there?"

There was a pause then, in a softer tone; "No. No not entirely."

"Well then," said Kelly, gently. "Take me to Ellie, now, please."


End file.
